Percy Jackson, sixteen years old, was a hero. He saved Olympus, along with Luke and Annabeth, but everybody forgot those two. All Annabeth and Luke were, to most campers, were just props for the amazing Percy Jackson.

Percy always got a sad look in his eye when people told him that Annabeth, or Luke for that matter, were props, "stupid-s", losers, etc. He usually shook it off, until one day.

He was walking back to his cabin when a group of six ten-year-old Hermes boys strode up to him. One named Aaron shouted in his ear, "Hey, Mr. Hero!" Another, nicer one said, "You saved us all, all by yourself! That's so cool!"

Percy winced at that, and turned to the youth. "Kid, I wasn't the hero. Luke was. And Annabeth saved us too, and I helped a little." "Mr. Modest, eh? You like her, don't you?" Aaron snickered. Percy replied sharply, "Y-yes. Some would say I love her. But if you tell anybody, I hope you like pink underwear."

As Percy walked away, nobody noticed Annabeth watching, with one tear in her eye.

Annabeth Chase, fifteen years old, was a hero. Every girl in camp told her she should just ask Percy out. He had told those Hermes boys he loved her, didn't he? Or maybe it was just a dream.

Annabeth always got a far-out look in her eyes when girls -mostly daughters of Aphrodite- told her to just ask Percy to date her or something. They always were like, "You guys kissed! Three times! And we didn't dump you in the lake so you guys could act like you hated each other!"

She, usually, would just shake her head and sigh. But when she scampered away from behind a tree after she just heard Percy tell those ten-year-olds that he loved her, she was confronted by an Apollo girl, telling her the same thing; but this time, she wanted to obey.

Annabeth replied to her, "You know what, you girls should stop telling me to ask Percy out. I love him, but--" "You what? I am so telling him--" "Don't, you idiot! Now lay off, stalkers!"

She ran off, oblivious to Percy standing behind the Apollo cabin with his mouth open in shock.

That night, Percy couldn't sleep with the echo in his head, "I love him, but…I love him, but…" He tossed a white cotton T-Shirt, jeans, and a jacket on over his pajamas, simply running shorts, and a pair of Nike sneakers over fresh socks.

Percy jogged down to the canoe lake, where he and Annabeth had kissed just a week before. It seemed so long ago, to him… As he approached the Poseidon table, he saw someone sitting there already, their gray eyes studying the ocean. As if she came here to think, too.

"Annabeth?" Percy whispered through the cold night. She whispered back, "Percy?" She turned ever so slightly, just so that her eyes met his, and Percy became lost in a sea of never-ending Annabeth, ending in a grin that spread across both of their faces.

Percy slid into the bench next to her, and Annabeth turned to face him, muttering, "You know, I saw you with those Hermes boys this morning." "I saw you with the Apollo girl."

At the same time, like six-year-olds, they said, "You said you loved me." Any boy and girl in the world would have been embarrassed if they said the same thing, especially such a romantic thing, at the same time. But not the twosome seated at the Poseidon table that night.

Annabeth clasped her hands around his, and whispered, "I do love you, Percy." He replied so calmly, so serenely, that it was hard to believe he was saying something almost nobody knew, "I do too."

It was then nearly impossible to fall into each other's embraces, Percy wrapping his warm hands around her neck, Annabeth's hands massaging his weak spot.

Their lips met, and to them, it was if nothing in the world was wrong: not Rachel's prophecy, not Titans, not anything; all they had, right then, was each other.

When both of them awoke, lying on the warm grass, arms wrapped around each other, Annabeth looked up at Percy and whispered in his ear, "I always knew you told the truth to Hermes kids."